Keys and Curses (Shadow Book 2) (10 page)

She sighed. It would never happen. They’d all continue on their own obstinate path and either starve or get killed clan by clan. If she’d known it was going to be like this, she’d never have agreed to make fairy welfare her life’s work. It was a thankless job at best.

She barely noticed when dawn came, but the fairies all rose, packed up and headed out, silent and busy as ants.

Ishtar hoisted a pack over her shoulder and eyed Flower. “Goodbye, Muse.”

“You’re leaving us here?” Flower stretched her aching muscles and dusted cave sand from her tunic.

“We’re certainly not letting a pair of oversized Freakin Fairies tag along,” Ishtar said. “Besides, your friend over there is too much of a liability. He could break out and start attacking us anytime.” She followed her band toward the cave mouth.

“You’re really leaving us to rescue the Freakin Fairies on our own?” Flower called after her.

Ishtar turned back. “Look,” she said. “We can’t help you with that. But I know who would.”

“Who?”

“He’s a forest person. His name’s Fitz Falls.”

“Where do we find him?” Flower began to feel more positive. A lead. Something solid to follow up, she was good at that kind of thing.

“We saw him about two days ago, heading into Bloomin Fairy country. Crazy fool’s probably got cauliflowers growing out of his ears by now.”

“Thank you.” Flower went back to wake Nikifor.

“Just one thing.” Ishtar came back to her. “You’re pretty hopelessly loyal to that king of yours, and you know I’m going to kill him. Are you going to do anything stupid like try and stop me?”

Flower looked into the hardened, battle-scarred face and gave her a tired smile. “If you tried to kill my king and I was there, I would stand between you and die for him. But I don’t think you’re going to find him before I do. Not after twenty-five years of searching.”

Ishtar scowled. “Good luck with Curse-Boy.” She left the cave.

CHAPTER NINE

“I’d like to know just exactly how we got to be at the top of the Guild’s most wanted list,” Flower said.

The reply tumbled from his mouth at high volume with dauntless abandon. “By foul treachery!”

She gave him a look. “You’re not helping.”

Nikifor cringed inwardly and wished for the ten thousandth time he could just disappear, or at the very least control what he said out loud. “What I meant to say,” he said in a more subdued tone, “is that if thousands of muses are missing, and we are now wanted by the Guild, then the whole thing stinks of a treacherous plot against us.”

Flower kicked aside a rock lying in her path. “It seems like that, but who would dare? And who would have anything against us? The muses have done nothing but work for the good of Shadow!”

Nikifor walked with his head down, a half-step behind her. She’d been snappish all morning. The pace she’d set on leaving the cave had already brought them out of the forest and into rolling, deserted farm country. The white gravel road they followed wound first toward paddocks drowning in dense green beanstalks, and then back toward the brooding edge of Quicksilver forest, never seeming to make up its mind where it was going. Three ravens clung to the treetops, carrying on a sardonic cawing commentary on their progress. It had rained overnight, leaving everything wet, but the sunshine today was warm and the air heavy with early spring pollen. Far in the distance, he could just see the shadow of the Great Western Peak of Impossible Doom. Somewhere in the other direction, the ocean hissed and crashed over his key. “It seems the Guild bears us some grudge,” he finally replied.

Flower snorted. “The Guild is no longer taking direction from the king, that much is obvious. And if that’s the case, then any power they have is invalid. I’ve a good mind to go straight back to Shadow City and shut the whole thing down.”

“You’ll disappear.”

She gave him a sharp look. “You seem remarkably lucid today.”

She was right. Nikifor felt clear and rested. His body no longer craved the madness, even if the urge still lay brooding deep down in places he didn’t like to go. “I think it was the Bloody Fairies,” he said, thinking about the young fairy girl who haunted his visions, the way the silver axe had kept him company in his dreams, the Tormentor hovering behind Ishtar and marking her. 

“Don’t worry, they’d drive anybody mad.”

“I’m not crazy!” The words burst from him so loudly the ravens paused in their screeching. Echoes bounced from the trees and came back to taunt him with his curse and Flower’s careless cruelty together.

Flower stopped walking and turned to face him with a look of concern. “Nikifor-”

“I swear to you I’m not,” he whispered, to try and make up for the shouting. She had to understand, and she wouldn’t listen if he kept losing control like that. “Somebody–something–follows me. He was strong in the presence of the Bloody Fairies. He marked them. He marked Ishtar Ishtar with blood. You must believe me, he’s real, he’s dangerous!”

“Nikifor.” Flower cupped his face in her hands. “Of course you’re not crazy, but you must learn to distinguish between reality and fantasy. These are just hallucinations brought on by the vibe.”

“But the vibe is out of my system!” His voice broke on an anguished note, because he could see from the pity in her eyes she didn’t believe him. “The Freakin Fairies did cure me, Flower, they saved my life. And if the man I see is a hallucination, how does he mark me?” He moved her hand to the bruise on his temple where the Tormentor had hit him on the first night with the Freakin Fairies.

Flower touched the faded bruise with gentle fingers. A frown marred her brow. “I thought the Freakin Fairies gave you this.”

“How would they reach?” Nikifor looked Flower full in the eyes for the first time in years and willed her to listen.

Her eyes were brown, serious, full of doubt. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

She’d never listen. He knew that. He said it anyway. “I swear to you I am not crazy.”

She regarded him a moment longer. “The king will know. He’ll help you.” She turned on her heel and walked brusquely down the path, just as though she knew exactly where she was going and it was very important she not be late getting there.

Nikifor stayed where he was, staring after her. A cold, sick feeling settled in his stomach. He could still hear the words of the little Bloody Fairy with the long hair, this Hippy Ishtar whom he had helped but could barely remember.

Your destiny is to kill the muse king.

“I fear I am not fit to seek out the king with you, my friend,” he said under his breath.

They walked all day. The sun was past its peak when the white gravel path finally veered away from Quicksilver forest to cut through a paddock where swollen, heavy yellow buds threatened to burst into flower at any moment. Nikifor trailed his fingers over the greenery, concentrating on the sensation of furry leaves and tough stems, trying to remember whether this was a crop of peas or some underground tuber. It helped to focus on everything that was around him. He wanted to be present, lucid, to feel normal again and hang onto that sensation for dear life.

The hills crept closer. The afternoon wore into evening, and the mountain became less of a shadow and more of a smudge on the horizon. They camped overnight in the shelter of a lone tree, shivering around a tiny fire they lit in a damp hole in the ground. Nobody came near in all that time. They might have been the only people in all Shadow.

The next morning was sunny again, but the cold had not yet eased by the time they came upon a crooked wooden sign planted in soft dirt by the path. On it was a roughly carved picture of a flower and a circle with three arrowheads pointing in different directions. The whole thing was shaped like a lightning bolt topped with an arrow that pointed straight at the sky.

Nikifor tipped his head back and considered the clear blue expanse, but there was nothing up there. 

“We’re close.” Flower continued up the path.

“Are you sure? Can you read the sign?”

“Of course I can. It says `this way.’”

Well, she was the fairy expert. Nikifor had never been in Bloomin Fairy country before. He’d never even met a Bloomin Fairy, and wasn’t sure he wanted to after being cursed by Freakin Fairies and hit over the head by Bloody Fairies. 

The white gravel became brighter white. A stand of tall, slim, white-trunked trees growing along the roadside obscured the paddocks. The path went around a bend. Nikifor, lost in wondering if it would be such a bad thing to never find the king, almost ran straight into Flower when she halted. The two of them stared at the structure blocking the way much like a pair of frightened rabbits caught out after dark.

A wall of industrial grade quicksilver barred the road from tree to tree, with no way past. The wall was patterned with thousands of tiny geometric lines that made Nikifor feel mildly ill. The brightness of the reflected sunlight off it didn’t help either. Dead in the centre of the structure was the outline of a door.

“I don’t like this,” he said.

“Neither do I.” Flower spoke through clenched teeth. “It was clearly stated in the third article of the Bloomin Fairy land treaty, which I brokered, that no major routes in or out of the territory are to be barred in any way that would impinge on the cultural practices or free movements of the inhabitants. I did not spend fifty years negotiating that document to stand by and see it flouted!”

“Flower wait!” Nikifor tried to grab her sleeve, but was left with a handful of thin air.

She marched right up to the wall and hammered on it with her fist. “Hey you! Open up!”

Nikifor put his face in his hands and groaned. This couldn’t possibly end well.

A small window shot open high up in the wall and a pale face appeared in it. “No entry without paperwork!” The window slammed shut.

“Flower your courage is magnificent but we are fugitives!” Nikifor boomed. He clapped a hand over his mouth before the echoes had even died away and cursed his curse.

Flower shot him a furious look. “Just you wait till we find the king, things’ll change pretty quickly. This is so illegal!” She hammered on the wall again and yelled at the top of her voice. “You come out here right now and explain yourself, whoever you are!”

Silence. Nikifor reached for his axe, quite sure they were about to be set upon by Moon Troopers.

A long, narrow doorway swung inward and a young woman peered out. Dirty blonde hair fell across curiously blank, glassy green eyes and a mouth that settled in a permanent sulky pout. She folded her arms over a long, grey coat. Her pants were slashed and fraying. She scowled at them. “What do you want?”

Flower scowled right back. “I want to know why you’re illegally blocking this road.”

Her look turned sly. “`Cos you’re not allowed in without documentation.”

“Why not?”

The girl made her words deliberately slow and clear. “`Cos nobody is. Duh.”

The girl was too tall for a fairy, but a shade too short to be a muse. She had proper feet, so she couldn’t be a forest person. She was nothing like a Pixie or even a Fire Elf. He couldn’t for the life of him think what other minor tribe she might belong to.

Flower wasn’t about to give any ground. “Who are you? What tribe are you from?”

The girl took a menacing step closer. “I’m a muse.”

Flower’s voice poured so much scorn on the idea even Nikifor flinched. “If you’re a muse, then I’m a giant Freakin Fairy. I demand to know the meaning of this travesty.” She pointed at the wall.

The girl slunk closer, her eyes on the key around Flower’s neck. “I’m a new muse,” she said. “A new, improved, better muse. And you two can consider yourself ex-muses.” She reached out for the key.

Flower slapped her hand away. “You little-”

The new, improved, better muse put two fingers in her mouth and gave a loud whistle. There was a rush of wind from the top of the wall and then a leathery, winged shape the size of a very big rat launched itself at their heads.

“Fetch!” Nikifor seized the double-headed axe from the makeshift harness he’d made across his back. Flower ducked. He swung wildly, twice, and sliced the creature in two. It exploded into foul-smelling smoke.

“Hey!” the new muse yelled. “That’s not fair!” She gave a second piercing whistle.

Flower grabbed the axe from Nikifor’s hand and leaped at the girl. The blade curved around, flashed wickedly and sliced into her neck.

The girl disappeared in a puff of stale smoke.

Nikifor and Flower stared at the empty space, stunned.

“You were magnificent!” Nikifor whispered in awe. “But where did she go?”

“I don’t know.” Flower handed him the axe, looking all around them. “But I think we should move. Come on.”

They peered through the door; it led through a very short passage and straight back onto the road. Nikifor followed Flower through the cold space and out into the sunlight. The trail was deserted and silent. A single white butterfly sailed amongst the flowers that rambled alongside the road. Nothing else moved.

“I don’t like this.” Flower picked up her pace.

Nikifor didn’t either. He followed, the axe ready in his hands. When they left the arrogant little wall behind, the tension eased. The sun shone. Birds sang in the trees. Bees zoomed through the flowers. The landscape widened from trees back to paddocks, these ones planted with swaying green knee high radish bushes. A purple and blue butterfly danced in lazy circles around Flower’s head. She swatted it.

Then a patch of sky darkened.

“They’re coming!” Flower looked around for cover, but there was no time for that.

Nikifor had no qualms about killing fetches. He braced himself. “Get down!”

Flower seized a stout branch off the ground and stood back to back with him. “Sorry Nikifor, but I’m really in the mood to hurt something.”

There was no time to argue with her. The swarm descended in an arrow-shaped cloud of angry, glowing, sharp-taloned, hook-beaked monsters.

Nikifor had no idea what Flower did while he laid about with the axe in every direction, moving so fast the weapon seemed like a blur even to him. Exploding fetches filled the air with such rank potency he could barely breathe. The movements came easily, the low stance, the spin, the axe covering every possible angle. His body knew what to do. Once, a long time ago, he’d been a librarian, before the destiny of Muse Champion was foisted on him. To fight, to protect, to be a warrior was a matter of instinct, but how his mind rebelled...

There were no more fetches.

The axe dropped from his fingers. Nikifor bent over to catch his breath. “Flower?”

Flower said a very, very bad word. She swayed like a tree about to fall. Blood poured from a gash on her arm and her skin was pale and clammy.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed against him like a rag doll. Nikifor almost didn’t catch her in time. The pallor of her skin sent a dart of fear through him. Was fetch poison fatal? He didn’t even know. He couldn’t lose her. She’d saved his life, and she was his friend, not to mention the brains of this mad quest into confusion.

“Whoa,” said a voice.

A man little more than four foot tall stared up at him with eyes so wide the whites showed all around them. He had a snub nose and thick, matted hair bleached sandy by the sun. His coat and pants had been tacked together from at least three hundred different red and orange cotton patches, and his straw hat had seen better days.

“Whoa,” the little man said again. “Whoa man, that was soooo amazing. I mean, is this even real?”

“Please help us.” Nikifor’s tired arms burned under Flower’s weight. He didn’t know if the plea would do any good, but there was nobody else to ask and Flower was too unconscious to tell him what to do.

The little man’s eyes got even wider. “This is huge,” he said. “I can’t believe I just saw two giant Freakin Fairies kill a whole swarm of fetches, my Gourd, it’s totally like that time when my friend Carrots was walking on top of the hill at night on his own looking for mushrooms and suddenly this big round thing just came out of the sky and Bam! Landed right in front him, and these creatures like totally came out and told him to plant these purple seeds under the full moon, but he lost them, except, like, this is totally bigger than that because I wasn’t even looking for mushrooms!”

Nikifor stared in utter confusion. “Purple mushrooms?” he echoed.

The little man’s jaw dropped. “Whoa man, you actually know the password! I totally knew something wild was going to happen to me today. Come on, I’ll take you to the Lord of the Gourd.” He ambled off the path and straight into the thick of the lush, leafy stalks growing in the field.

Nikifor was left with little choice but to pick Flower up and follow.

CHAPTER TEN

Flower landed in Dream rather harder than usual. Red bricks radiated heat under her boots. The air shimmered. A merciless sun beat down on a wide lane lined with shops so big and glassy and full of silly things like shoes with enormous heels they made her head spin. There were people everywhere, but they moved sluggishly. Sweat beaded their foreheads. Hair and clothes clung to their skin.

The heat made Flower nauseous after the cold and damp of the past two weeks, not to mention the rapid passage between the worlds. The steel bench seat she clutched for support burned her fingers. She closed her eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths. Being this present in Dream only happened when she was unconscious in Shadow, leaving her psyche freer to roam than usual. It was dangerous; she could get stuck here if nobody woke her. Once, she’d got knocked out by a chunk of armour plating flying at high velocity during a battle with vampires at the Bitter Tower. She’d inspired a whole bestselling crime thriller before she came to almost four days later, lying under a spindly brindleberry bush half dead from thirst and with a lump the size of an egg on her forehead.

She shook herself. What an odd memory to have right now. Unconscious she might be, but it was an opportunity too good to be missed. She got control of the nausea with a few more deep breaths, then opened her eyes. She watched carefully. Nobody even looked at her. Naturally, they couldn’t see her, but she had to make sure. After all, she could touch things right now.

Bright pink hair flashed past. There, she always landed right where she was supposed to. Flower dodged around a mother with a stroller and a man juggling three bright red hoops. She wrinkled her nose and coughed when she walked right through a cloud of cigarette smoke. Foul habit. These humans were as bad as fairies.

The girl who’d been plaguing her walked with a man who stood a good head shorter than herself, and who wore a lot of black for a human. Around his wrists were matching thick silver cuffs.

Flower dodged around them so she could walk backwards and study the hard lines carved into the man’s face, whether by time or trauma she didn’t know. One deep scar above his eyebrow told stories of old battles. He was dark and weathered, with silver-flecked black eyes just like - no. No, it was impossible.

The man chose that moment to take his wide-brimmed hat off and wipe sweat from his forehead. He had a head full of dreadlocks, all neatly tied back into a ponytail.

Flower’s eyes widened. It wasn’t impossible at all. She looked at the girl. “What are you doing with a Freakin Fairy?”

But the girl couldn’t hear her. She walked on, head down, swinging that ever-present hockey stick at her side, a frown of concentration marring her brow. The pair of them walked right through Flower.

Flower felt just like somebody had kicked her in the gut. Images tumbled through her mind. She almost fell out of Dream and onto a battlefield scarred with fairy corpses where a distant, blood-curdling roar shattered the night. She bent double, gasping for breath. The vision made her mind reel, not because it was so vivid and frightening, but because she’d seen it. She’d seen it and forgotten it. Right now she couldn’t even try to figure out where and when this terrible battle was. There were no fairies at the Bitter Tower, where she’d lived and fought for ninety years until the death of the Champion, Nikifor’s father...

The girl and the Freakin Fairy halted and turned back, both looking puzzled. Flower froze, terrified they could see her.

“You felt that, right?” the girl hooked the stick over her shoulder. “Please tell me you felt that.”

“I don’t know what I felt,” the Freakin Fairy said.

“I swear I’m being haunted.”

The Freakin Fairy gave the general area where Flower stood a frankly suspicious look, then shrugged and turned away. “Come on, love. We’ve got a present to find.”

The girl chuckled. “How many times am I going to have to help you get out of trouble with Mum anyway? You’d better be prepared to shell out for something really shiny this time, Dad.”

“Dad?” Flower forgot her fright and hurried to catch up with them again, her questions bursting out like water from the fountain in the plaza in Shadow City before the Moon Troopers desecrated it. “That Freakin Fairy is your father? How is that even possible? You don’t look a thing like a fairy! Well-” she considered that. She certainly had some very fairylike violent tendencies. “But who’s your mother then? A human?” She shifted her attention to the Freakin Fairy. “And why are you here? Why aren’t you at home in Shadow mining silver? This is highly unusual.”

They kept talking, just as though she wasn’t there.

“So what’d you do this time?” the girl asked. “You’ve hardly even been back a week.”

The Freakin Fairy looked rueful. “You know, the usual stuff. It doesn’t take much to set her off.”

“Dad-” the girl hesitated. “Is she okay? I mean, I know she’s always a bit different, but she’s getting worse, isn’t she? We ran into Luke the other night–you know, the tall guy from the markets? She freaked out, called him a vampire and kicked him in the shins. I had to hold her back and do some very fast talking to calm him down.”